Chapter 70 THE GALA PART 1
The car pulled up to the Plaza Hotel just after seven. Vivienne sat in the back seat, watching through tinted windows as people in expensive clothes climbed the marble steps.
Camera flashes lit up the entrance like lightning. A red carpet stretched from the curb to the doors, lined with photographers and reporters holding microphones.
This was real. This was happening.
The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "We're here, ma'am."
"Thank you," she said.
He came around and opened her door. The noise hit her first. Then the cameras clicking. And music drifting from inside the hotel.
Vivienne stepped out onto the red carpet in her emerald dress and the heels Marcus had insisted matched perfectly.
A photographer immediately aimed his camera at her. "Miss, can you look this way?"
She kept moving, following the flow of people up the steps.
The lobby was massive. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Marble floors reflected the lights. Waiters moved through the crowd carrying trays of champagne.
Vivienne accepted a glass just to have something to hold.
"Vivienne."
She turned to find Alexander walking toward her. He wore a black tux that fit him like it was made specifically for this moment. His hair was styled back, his tie perfectly straight.
"You came," he said, and something in his voice made her think he'd genuinely wondered if she would.
"I said I would."
"I know. I just..." He stopped himself. "You look incredible."
"Thank you."
The awkwardness from Monday was undeniable. The almost-kiss. The apology that followed. The way they'd both retreated afterward.
"There are some people I want you to meet," Alexander said, gesturing toward a group near the entrance to the ballroom. "Key investors. Just smile and be yourself."
Be herself. Right. Because that wouldn't end in disaster at all.
She followed him across the lobby. The investors were exactly what she expected. Men in expensive suits, women dripping in jewelry, everyone holding drinks and laughing at jokes that probably weren't that funny.
"Everyone, this is Vivienne Cross," Alexander said. "The face of Tyranny."
A man with silver hair stepped forward, smiling. "Thomas Bradford. Whitmore Investments. We've been very curious about you, Ms. Cross."
Vivienne shook his hand. "Nice to meet you."
"You're quite mysterious," a woman in a red dress said. Diamonds glittered around her neck. "We've tried to look you up online. Very minimal presence."
"I prefer to keep my personal life private," Vivienne said, keeping her voice steady.
"How refreshing," the woman replied, though her tone suggested it was anything but.
Another man leaned in. "So how did you get into this industry? Motion capture, modeling... it's quite specialized."
"I started with theater," Vivienne said, pulling from the backstory she'd rehearsed. "Movement and acting have always interested me."
"And before that?"
The questions kept coming. Where did she grow up? Where did she go to school? Did she have family?
Each one felt like a trap.
Alexander must have sensed her discomfort because he smoothly redirected. "Vivienne brought something unique to Athena. A depth that made the character feel real."
"I'm sure she did," Thomas said, his eyes traveling over her in a way that made her skin crawl.
"If you'll excuse us," Alexander said, placing his hand lightly on Vivienne's back. "I need to introduce her to a few other people."
As they walked away, Vivienne let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"You okay?" Alexander asked quietly.
"They were interrogating me."
"They interrogate everyone. It's what they do." He steered her toward the bar. "But you handled it well."
Before Vivienne could respond, a voice cut through the ambient noise of the lobby.
"Alexander."
They both turned.
Victoria Hunt stood near the entrance to the ballroom, wearing a cream-colored gown that looked understated and impossibly expensive at the same time. Her hair was swept up, her makeup flawless, her posture perfect.
She looked like a queen surveying her kingdom.
"Mother," Alexander said. "I didn't know you'd arrived."
"Just now." Victoria's eyes moved to Vivienne, and something cold slithered down Vivienne's spine. "Nice to meet you again, Ms. Cross."
Vivienne forced herself to extend her hand. "Same here."
Victoria's handshake was brief and cool. "Glad you could make it."
Her gaze traveled over Vivienne's face, studying every feature. Then her eyes dropped to Vivienne's collarbone, where the neckline of the dress revealed the top of her chest.
Where the scar was barely visible. Hidden by makeup, but there if you knew to look.
"That's a lovely dress," Victoria said. "Emerald green. Very bold choice."
"Thank you."
"And where did you say you were from originally, Ms. Cross?"
"Brooklyn."
"Brooklyn. How interesting." Victoria stared a beat longer. "You know, there's something so familiar about you. Are you sure we haven't met before the studio?"
"I'm sure I would remember," Vivienne said.
"Hmm." Victoria smiled faintly. "Sometimes faces can be deceiving. Or perhaps it's just one of those things. You remind me of someone, but I can't quite place it."
Alexander stepped slightly closer to Vivienne. "Mother, we should let her settle in before the program starts."
"Of course." Victoria took a sip of her champagne, her eyes never leaving Vivienne's face. "We'll have plenty of time to talk later. I'm very interested in getting to know you better, Ms. Cross. Alexander speaks so highly of you."
"I appreciate that."
"Do you have family, Ms. Cross? A husband? Children?"
The question landed like a punch.
"Mother," Alexander said, his voice tight. "That's inappropriate."
"I'm simply making conversation." Victoria's smile widened. "It's natural to be curious about the people in my son's life. Especially those who've become so... important to him."
"I have a son," Vivienne said, because not answering would seem more suspicious. "He's nine."
"How wonderful. And his father?"
"Mother, that's enough."
"It's fine," Vivienne said, even though it wasn't. "He's doing very well."
"Oh, good." Victoria's eyes gleamed.
A commotion near the entrance interrupted whatever Victoria was about to say next.
Everyone in the lobby turned to look.